Aftermath
by ChuckNorrisLeftFist
Summary: After a hate crime kills a Cheerio, everybody on the football team has to write a journal. Azimio's journal follows. Based on season 1. Warnings: Character death, language. UPDATED: Karofsky's journal
1. Chapter 1

_AN: _

_Warning: Character death, swearing.  
><em>

_Based on the following prompt._

_For some reason the Cheerios and the football team have to take the same bus to an away game, during the entire ride the football team makes homophobic and degrading comments to Kurt._

_They win the game._

_After the game, when they are back in the buss someone makes a headcount and comes up one short. Turns out Kurt isn't on the bus. He's not answering his phone, they go back but can't find him._

_I want it to be football players pov (Azimio or Karofsky would be great), from sharing the bus, realizing Kurt isn't there, days of police searching and media cover to Kurt being found beaten to death and players from the opposite team being arrested for it._

_Authors choice what impact it has on the football team/individual players._

* * *

><p>So anyway, now we've got to write down this journal of what we're thinking and feeling. That counselor they brought in said that we'll probably all thinking and feeling all different things and that sometimes they'll even all be mixed up. So I'm thinking, "Shit, you go to counselor school to learn to say that?" But my dad insists that I go through this whole thing with the rest of the team. I tried saying, "No, that Hummel did didn't mean shit to me before and he don't mean shit to me now," well, not quite like that because dad doesn't like it when I cuss, but anyway, my point is that I'm not all that bothered that he's dead. I mean, it's not like I'm glad he's dead and yeah, it bugs me that he died like that, because, I mean, like nobody deserves to get kicked to death, well, I mean, aside from people like KKK or terrorists or those kinds of fuckers. They deserve kicking to death. But not Hummel.<p>

Some guys did get fucked up by this. Puckerman totally lost it. I mean, throwing things everywhere, throwing punches at the wall, like he totally freaked. Hudson got fucked up, too, but different. Puckerman got all mad, but Hudson get all girly about it. But then he's like the lead of that Homo Explosion. Except now the name isn't so funny, I guess. Chang and Rutherford were like the quiet ones to begin with, so it didn't really change that they don't say much, but it's a different kind of not saying much, you know what I mean? It's like before they didn't say much because they didn't see a need. Now it's like they don't say much because for what they want to say, they don't know the words. Or something like that.

But you know the guy who blows my mind? My man Karofsky. He acts like somebody kicked his _puppy_ to death. Oh, yeah, animal abusers, they deserve kicking to death, too. But I'd have sworn on a stack of Bibles he'd be like me, ready to move on soonest. Do not stop at counseling, do not collect pamphlets. But he is a fucking _mess_.

What Hudson keeps talking about how is on the bus over there, you know, you get bored. So somebody starts joking about all the positions a faggot can and can't play, then it goes onto like are faggots fake men or fake girls. Just shit like that. Coach tells us to knock it off but most of the time he's trying to write a letter to Ms. Pillsbury. I know because I took a look.

It's not like none of of us knew it was going to happen, right? I mean, when you say, "Die, faggot," it's not like you think he's going to die that night? Shit, at the trial they said that they couldn't even recognize his face and of course they couldn't recognize his clothing because they took it. They actually did DNA testing so they wouldn't have to make his dad look at him. Now that's some fucked up shit.

I know, yeah, like Dad kept saying afterwards, I've got to have a sense of priorities and all that, but it seriously sucked that this was the game that we won. Hudson even said something about how maybe if we'd lost, Hummel would still be alive, like they wouldn't have gotten so mad that they lost to _us_. Hell, I'd even give up the win if it meant he'd still be alive, but I'd ask if he could just stay out of my face for good.

It wasn't until Sylvester does her head count that anybody realizes that he's missing. Then it was all over the news and there were search parties and police dogs and everything. It was actually that seriously weird chick from Glee that found him, that loudmouth Berry. Well, she was the one who started screaming, it was her and Tina that found him.

I never really believed any of the wild stories about exactly what he looked like, so I guess I really wasn't ready for the pictures at the trial. Yeah, Figgins made us all go to the trial. I heard that his dad, Hummel's dad, not Figgins', made it one of the conditions of the lawsuit being settled, that everybody on the team had to go. It sucked because it was summer. Yeah, and also, it was really, like, well, it was really gross. The defense was trying to say that it was all over in just a minute and so it's not like anybody even had a moment to think. But they had these forensic guys who showed just how long it took, and how they dragged him from one place to another while he was still alive, and how they could tell other stuff about how long it took from the blood and how much bled where and all that stuff.

The defense tried all sorts of lame shit like that. Like he had come onto one of them and there had been this gay panic thing. But then the Cheerios all said that it was one of their players who came over and pretended to be gay himself and asked Kurt to hang around until the bus left. He texted the rest of their team and said that he fell for it.

She's not here so I kind of forgot her, but Sylvester's another one of those people you never would have thought would give a shit. Or I would have thought maybe she'd be as mad as hell because he was like one of her Cheerios. But she was crying during the funeral and the trial and everything. And when she started bawling during the school thing, I really thought she would set Karofsky off. I had to hit him on the shoulder to remind him that fuck, that crying stuff for Hummel is lame. Weird, I was going to write that it's gay, but that doesn't look right any more. Whatever.

Anyway, those shitheads left like evidence everywhere and the prosecution like ripped their lawyer a new one every time he tried to say anything. But we all knew that team was going down big time when they did this like Victim Impact Statement or whatever they call it.

Mr. Hummel looks like, you know, a real man, like a man's man. Can't believe he'd have a kid like Hummel. But he lost it totally then. But then it's his kid, so he has an excuse, right?

So what they did is they showed this video Hummel made. He did something fancy with his email so that if he didn't open his email for two weeks it would automatically send the video to Mr. Schuester and an email. It's weird, I kind of remember what it said.

It was something like, "Dad, if you're seeing this, I'm either dead or missing. It was either an accident or homicide, and, frankly, considering the hate crime statistics here in Ohio, it's pretty sure that it's homicide. Dad, I love you and I would never kill myself or run away. Nothing in my life could ever get that bad, and that's because I have you."

You know, sometimes I was just a little bit jealous of the guy. Not because of his grades or fancy clothing or car, well, okay, a bit of the car, but because he really could make words say the kinds of things I can't. Sometimes I wish I could tell my dad that I love him using words like that.

Anyway, he went on something like, "I know I wasn't always the son you expected and I know that sometimes I disappointed you. But you never made me feel like I'm a disappointment or that you didn't accept me because I'm gay. I just wish every kid in the universe could have a dad like you. Especially the gay ones because, Dad, you were perfect. You made me feel loved and appreciated and wanted no matter what. You always loved me for myself and loved me more than anything else. And, Dad? I believe that if anything survives of me after I'm gone, it's in how much we love one another. And if that's the case, then maybe I'm with my Mom. So at worst, think of me as finally being safe from all the bullying and hatred, and at best, think of me as being with Mom."

Okay, I admit that got to me a bit, I mean, who wouldn't it get to?

"There's a lot I've missed, I know. I wanted to get to kiss a guy finally, and I also kind of wanted to bring my boyfriend home to you. Maybe by the time we were ready, you could even have attended our wedding. We probably would have made you take dance lessons first, though."

That was where Karofsky like absolutely lost it. I think it just all caught up with him, you know?

"But Dad, no matter what I missed, there's one thing so many people never had that you gave me. A home where I was safe and loved and had a father I looked up to and loved. So thank you, Dad, thank you for everything, a million times. I love you, Dad."

Anyway, they said afterwards that the trial was like another Stonewall, whatever that was, I thought it was just some riot at a gay bar. Even like Sarah Palin had to say something nice about him, even if she put it in a nasty way, and said that if schools taught religion this wouldn't happen. But Mr. Hummel was asked to quote about that and he said that he didn't want somebody who would fight tooth and nail to keep people like his son from having the same rights as anybody else trying to benefit politically from his death.

I bet you've seen the posters. There's a photo, they say it's kind of cleaned up but it's still plenty ugly, of Hummel's head, all bashed up, on one side of the poster, and the other one is somebody holding up a "No Gay Marriage" sign. Both the sides are labeled, "What homophobia does." Stuff like that.

I dunno, getting involved in that sort of thing seems to be helping some of the guys. Me, like I said, I don't really care that much, to be honest. But it's still Karofsky I'm worried about. He acts like something really had happened to _him_.

I just don't get it. I just do. Not. Get it.


	2. Chapter 2

There's nothing that I can do to go back and make it right. I can't undo all the times that we bullied him and I can't undo the fact that we were making jokes about him right where he could hear us. He was in front with the Cheerios.

I hope he didn't think that any of us would have joined them in kicking him to death. But then if maybe one of us had started it, would the rest of us joined in? Would I?

I can't believe I thought I was being the good guy by holding his bag when we dumpstered him. I can't believe that he got a crush on me because I did _less_ to hurt him than the other guys did.

At the wake, my mom started talking to his dad. They had something in common because she's a widow and he's a he-widow or whatever they call them. He couldn't say much, just the thank you for coming, that sort of thing, and then he looked at her and just said, ″I lost my universe now.″

Mom said afterward that there's nothing worse for a parent than to bury their child. If you lose a husband or wife, you lose every day that you could have had with them, but if you lose a child, you lose every day that they would have had and that their kids would have had. She invited him to come for dinner the first night after the relatives are gone, so at least he wouldn't be going to an empty home right away. He did, but he was just going through the motions.

What really made me feel bad is that he thought I was some kind of friend of Kurt's. We'd gotten to know one another better and I was even starting to like him a bit, no matter how annoying he was, but we weren't friends. I couldn't say that to him, of course, but I wonder if it would have made a difference if we were.

At least maybe I'd have stood up for him on the bus. Maybe he wouldn't have been so ready to head off with that guy from the other team if he felt like he was really one of us. They say one in every ten kids is lesbian or gay or bi. Santana and Brittany are both bi, or at least they have sex together, so that's twenty kids, and then there would be a lot of other lesbians or bi chicks at school, but then there would be at least a few more gay guys at school. Maybe if they were out, he wouldn't have felt so desperate for somebody to like him that he'd have gone off with that other guy. Or he'd have done what my mom used to do before she thought it would scare guys off, make sure that the guy she was dating knew that she'd told somebody who he was with and where. If Kurt had made the guy give him a name and number and had a call-in time, he might have backed off, if he knew that Kurt had all of us behind him. I made my mom promise me to do that again.

I liked watching Animal Planet but now I keep thinking of those scenes where like a wolf or a lion is scanning a herd to find any animal that's easy to separate from the herd or one that's littler than the rest.

Kurt was such a little guy, too. Not just compared to me, he was just plain little. No wonder they thought he was like the animal they could all bring down. On one of those shows, this baby moose screamed when the wolves dragged it down.

I just wish that we all knew then what we know now. I even saw Karofsky crying his eyes out in the locker room once. I kind of wanted to hit him because he'd been one of the worst for picking on Kurt, but then, it's not like I had a right to. Another time, he stopped in the hall and he was just staring at Kurt's locker for almost a minute before Azimio pushed him and asked what was his problem.

Mr. Schue is trying to help. He and Ms. Pillsbury helped to organize a PFLAG chapter at the school and me and Puck and a few of the other guys joined. Mike designed some posters. It makes me feel good but also really sad that people are talking about them.

Somebody said that people from that really crazy church where everybody's related to one another were going to come picket the funeral. I almost wish they had, if it wouldn't have upset everybody even more. That way, I'd have had somebody I could hit. Puck got so mad when he heard that. He hit the walls so hard when he heard that Kurt was dead that he broke both his hands punching a wall. I guess he just needed to punch something because he couldn't really punch me or the rest of the guys since he'd done what we had, and you can't really punch yourself. I mean you can, but not hard enough.

Mr. Schue sat me down and told me that I could make one of three choices. I could do what a lot of kids are doing and start to shrug it off, I could be angry and bitter and guilty, or I could do the hardest thing and become a real leader after this. That I could make the changes that would help keep things like this from happening, or, if they happen after all, that I'd be standing with the people who fought, not the people who watched and did nothing.

My dad joined the military because he wanted to be one of the people who fought for freedom and America and all that. Mr. Schue said on the one hand, what I'd be doing as a leader would be a lot harder, because I'd have to make all the decisions about what to do every time something needs to happen to stop bullying and homophobia and all that. In the Army, you have somebody who tells you what to do, almost all the time. On the other hand, it'd be easier, because it's not like people would be shooting at me or planting bombs or anything. It might feel like it because people would sometimes say bad things directly at me, or about me, but it's not like I'd actually die. Not like Kurt died.

So I guess that's what I've got to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Dave Karofsky's journal

Like writing things down is going to help. I think about him all the time, what good is writing about it going to do?

He's dead now and I watched as they put his body in the ground. I knew perfectly well that this wasn't some mind game that everybody was playing, that this wasn't some kind of lesson and that as they started lowering the coffin into the ground he wasn't going to jump out and yell, ″Surprise,″ but when I saw his dad drop that first handful of dirt and heard it hit the top of the coffin, I really knew.

Why do we have to do that, anyway? I almost wanted to make them stop, to say that he would hate being in the ground, it would be cold and dirty.

I dream about him, too. Every kind of dream you can imagine. Ones where I manage to save him. Ones where I can't but at least he knew that I tried. Ones where he turned down the guy who came over to him because he already had a boyfriend.

Ones where he comes back and blames me. Ones where I'm helping to kick him to death.

At least they didn't rape him. I think if they had, I'd have gone crazy. But sometimes when I dream, that happens, too. Sometimes I'm the one doing it. Some of _those_ dreams even turn me on.

Maybe I _am_ going crazy. Because sometimes I hear a voice and I turn around but it's not him. Sometimes I even see somebody with that color hair or that build and I think it's him. But it never is.

I want him back so badly. I want a second chance. Except really, I know I had a chance every time I did something to him. I could have stopped.

I hated him then for the things he was making me feel. And now I still kind of hate him for making me so miserable except I know now that it's my fault, not his.

I know, if he'd been my boyfriend, or even if we were just friends, then I could tell somebody how I feel. I could say how much I miss him, how I keep thinking of him, and maybe, if we had been together, I could say how much I wanted to kiss him, to be holding him again, just one last time.

I even know that if I'd treated him halfway decently from the start, I'd have had a chance. It's not like he would have had a wide selection of out guys to pick from. Then I remember the dream where he said that he already had a boyfriend, and looked around to find me with his eyes, and smiled a bit .

I just wish I could talk to somebody. If we'd been boyfriends, then maybe his dad and I would be talking, we'd have those, ″Remember the time I came to dinner and knocked the water pitcher over?″ ″Did I tell you about when he was six and said he was going to be a race car driver?″ sorts of stories to tell, and it would have been for a while like he was still there with us. But now it would be something like ″Did I tell you about the day I slushied him three times?″

Dad keeps looking at me like he wants to say something but isn't sure. I heard him and Mom talking about me in the kitchen one night, really quietly, when they thought I was in my room. She was saying that it was my first contact with anybody my age dying and my first encounter with a violent death and that I just needed time. He was saying that he thought it might be more than that, but that he wasn't sure if it'd make things worse by pushing, since sometimes I get defensive. If only he knew.

I tried to talk to Ms. Pillsbury but she just gave me pamphlets on grieving. I read them but none of them helped. She said that often people feel guilty after somebody dies and that there are ways to think about it to channel that to something positive. She said that maybe I'd feel better if I participated in some of the activities like that PFLAG.

Except I'm not a parent or a friend, I am one of them.

Shit, I can't even write it down without making myself. That I'm gay. It took me three minutes to write that down, maybe more.

That doesn't keep me from thinking about him, about how much I wanted to kiss him, to be his first. I even could have seen us getting old together, me still teasing him about how fussy he is about his five remaining strands of hair, him still pretending to be exasperated because I snore, Azimio and his wife would live next door and they'd be making jokes about how they can still hear us making the bedsprings creak almost every night.

Azimio knows something's wrong but he has no idea what. I'm terrified at the thought of telling him. We've been friends since preschool. Would he throw me under the bus if I told him? Or even if he weren't mad at me for being gay, would he throw me under the bus for lying to him so long? For not trusting him?

It hurts so much and I don't know what to do.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Puck next, I think, then probably Santana. I'm open to other suggestions, too.<em>


End file.
